


His father's eyes

by Captain_Mercurian



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: George never really found out, Heartbroken Vulcan, I think we all know where this is heading, Its not easy though, Jim has his eyes, Jim went through a lot of shit and deserves to be loved, M/M, So they age slower too, Spock was very much in love with George Kirk, Vulcans get almost twice as old as humans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-01 17:23:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8632093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Mercurian/pseuds/Captain_Mercurian
Summary: “I found George's son,” Pike told him 21 years later with a gentle and somewhat guilty expression on his aging face. Spock felt numb all over. “He was rotting in Iowa and I convinced him to join Starfleet.” There was a slight pause. “He has George's eyes.”





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this back in August, 2015. I am not a native speaker and it is not beta-read since all my English-speaking friends have quite an aversion to Star Trek. Besides, the fic is quite old, too. I intended to write three parts but I ended up with only two. I am not sure if I should or even can write the third part to this. I was in a roll back then, wrote both parts in the course of a day, after all. I hope y'all like it, though!
> 
> (I capitalized "human" on some parts since Vulcan is typically capitalized too and both are supposed to look kind of equal here, so yeah, that' that.)

The first thing Spock remembered about earth were blue eyes.

 

Never would he forget the face that greeted him as Spock set his first foot unto earth ground, the Human male smiling brightly and unashamedly in a manner that would be highly inappropriate were they on Vulcan. There was careless happiness in those eyes directed at him if just for a few seconds as the stranger raised his hand in a slightly crooked Ta'al.  
“Greetings” he had said with a low unfathomably warm voice as Spock approached him with a carefully blank face. “I take you are Spock, Son of Sarek? I am Commander George Kirk. I was instructed to be your tutor for the time being. To help you settle into the Academy, you know.”

Acknowledging the information, Spock politely tilted his head, returning the Ta'al in all its Vulcan perfection. “Sch'n T'Gai Spock. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”  
Back then, being only 20 years of age, he had had no idea what the strange but warm feeling in his stomach was as the man's smile became impossibly brighter, revealing white teeth and a single dimple on the right corner of his mouth.

 

... 

 

The average lifespan of a Vulcan individual of adequate health was around approximately 153.79 Human years, a total of 108.49 Vulcan ones.  
On his 24th Human birthday he found himself in a conversation with his father regarding a topic he until then had only ever allowed to ponder about while in meditation.

“You will outlive mother,” he had suddenly said, surprising even himself with the bluntness of his statement. There was a moment of silence before his father finally answered. “I will. May I inquire as to why you approached the matter?”  
He had the strange urge to bite his bottom lip as he had seen George Kirk do occasionally whenever he felt insecure in a situation he didn't seem to be able to handle. Being around him affected him more than he was willing to accept.

“I find myself... drawn to a Human individual though I am unsure whether or not to act on said attraction," he confessed, trying to suppress the unease of being nervous. Never had he spoken to his father about a matter of emotion, especially not regarding romantic or sexual interests. However, he had dismissed the idea of talking to his mother about it for she was not the one negatively affected by the bonding she and his father shared.

“You intend to bond with a Human?” his father asked, lifting a single eyebrow gracefully. Spock felt a soft tinge of green settling on his cheeks as he inclined his head just a tiny bit.  
“I am not sure as of yet,” he mumbled, suddenly shy and ashamed talking about this. “There was no indication whether my regards are reciprocated. However, I wanted to discuss the possible consequences of a relationship of that kind before... 'trying anything'.”  
There was a slight twitch on the corner of his fathers mouth upon hearing an Human expression out of his sons lips. Spock wasn't sure if it was caused by amusement or disgust.

“Bonding with a member of a species this mortal and weak is a choice you should not make lightly. Especially, when taking your young age into account. I was already past my middle age when I met your mother, who in turn was just of age for Human standards. I will have the fortune to not live more than a decade without her by my side, assuming that she stays in good health even in a high age. You, however, have to prepare yourself for being left behind one day, having to endure another half of your life with a torn bond to a deceased Human mate. And do not forget about T'Pring for she was your intended since your 7th day of birth. It is on you to decide whether this particular Human individual is worth the pain you will inflict on her and on yourself.”

 

... 

 

“Morning, Cadet Spock!” George Kirk happily greeted, the crooked Ta'al directed at him, blue eyes twinkling warmly at the sight of him.

Spock found himself in no need of further pondering.

 

... 

 

The Human way of courting was a most confusing matter. After a long conversation with his mother Spock found himself trying to “woo” George Kirk in the traditional Human way. Inviting him to dinner and to the cinema went surprisingly well even though he didn't quite enjoy the latter as much as he enjoyed the former. Movies forced him to look at the screen instead of the strikingly attractive face of the man next to him, depriving him of the sight of George Kirk's highly aesthetically pleasing features. Beside that, he was illogically disappointed about not being able to talk to him for his mind was just as fascinating as his exterior.

He thought himself lucky after the sixth 'date' they had and assumed that the courting was going well. In his mind he already tested out what it might feel like to regard George as his 'boyfriend'. If the fluttering in his stomach and the tug of a smile on his lips were any indication at all, he found the thought most pleasing.  
Walking down the corridors of the Starfleet Academy and sharing an intellectual conversation was even more satisfactory since he was able to capture and contain his boyfriends attention even in the middle of hundreds of cadets.

As he was a rather young and attractive professor it was unsurprising that George Kirk had his fair amount of admirers. Spock felt a little proud of himself to be the one individual of all these suitors to have been able to 'catch' him and make him his.

However, after a month of successful dating Spock began having his first doubts though he wasn't exactly an expert in what Humans might think appropriate behaviour while being in a relationship. On some occasions George would say things to other Humans that bordered on being flirtatious, especially to females one would consider 'pretty'. Deciding it was part of Georges charismatic nature and nowhere near a sign of infidelity Spock dismissed his doubts immediately. Which later turned out the be a quite naive action.

“I am not gonna make it to our chess game tonight, Spock,” George had declared one evening, smiling brightly as if that was good news. Lifting an eyebrow Spock tilted his head a bit and blinked in confusion.  
“May I inquire as to the reason why?” he asked and tried to carefully hide the slight hurt in his voice as he said so. George seemed unaffected whatsoever and stepped closer than he usually would. It was a small comfort to be able to feel the warmth radiating from his body since George usually kept a respectable distance from him. (Spock would later declare himself a fool for thinking it was because he respected the sensitive Vulcan heritage of his boyfriend.)

“Don't tell anyone – But I'm going to a date.”

There was a long moment of silence in which Spock was too startled to say anything in return. He tried to remember what the exact definition of the word 'date' was in hopes that it would explain why George would use this particular expression even though it couldn't possibly be a date as the ones they had participated in.

'... _a social appointment, engagement, or occasion arranged beforehand with another person_.'

“With whom and for what purpose?” he cautiously asked feeling his heart beat faster against his ribcage, right next to his arm. George laughed at this, white teeth exposed, his endearing dimple firmly on the corner of his mouth. The sight hurt him.  
“Winona. She finally agreed. I was trying to date her for a year now.” he announced happily, letting his hands gingerly slide into the pockets of his trousers.

Spock's heart decided to stop beating for almost 5 seconds.

“She's a little like you, you know. Somewhat uptight. Was concerned about Starfleet regulations regarding cadets and professors being in a relationship, yada, yada, yada... But since she's graduating next month, that won't be a problem anymore.” He beamed at Spock, blue eyes sparkling in a way Spock had never seen before. “I am one lucky bastard! After all, I am gonna be first officer on the U.S.S. Kelvin with my best friend and soon-to-be-girlfriend on the same ship. We'll all gonna stick together for five years!”

Best friend.

It was not until then that Spock realized that neither of them had ever talked about the relationship he had thought they had.

“Anyway, I gotta leave. Don't wanna be late. See you later, Spock!”

 

...

 

After graduation Spock transferred to the U.S.S. Enterprise.

 

...

 

“There is a message for Commander Spock,” Yeoman Nitta declared as she entered the bridge. “A handwritten letter, would you believe it? Who still does that?”  
As Spock rose from his seat he already knew exactly from whom that letter was. He remembered all too well of how fond he had been of that persons habit to try doing everything in the most old fashioned way possible. Spock tried not to think about George Kirk's long calloused fingers, holding a vintage pen writing peacefully while humming a song of the 20th century, as he accepted the letter with a polite nod.

He waited until his Alpha shift was over, earning a concerned glance of his Captain, Christopher Pike. Spock found himself still baffled at said mans abnormally high sense of empathy since he was the only Human next to his mother capable of knowing what he felt underneath his blank Vulcan mask. Inclining his head he made his way to his quarters, seating himself on his meditation mattress. He held his breath while staring at the perfectly handwritten 'Spock' in the middle of the envelope.

Never would he admit that his hands had been shaking while opening the letter with careful hands.

 

_Wedding Invitation_

_George Kirk &Winona Morrison_

_at the 6th July 2223_

_Baptist Church Iowa_

 

There was nothing but complete numbness that Spock experienced at those words written before him. It has been roughly four years since he last saw George Kirk, months since their last brief contact. The feeling of being thought of even though Spock had done all in his might to break off any kind of bond they have had, sent an unwelcome sense of warmth trough his veins.

There was a letter attached to the invitation in which he expressed his wish to see Spock again so they could 'catch up'. George tried to manipulate him to agree through reminding him of some of the happy memories they had shared throughout these four years in the academy. What George Kirk obviously didn't know was that those memories tasted bitter on his tongue for his emotions had been of a completely different nature than his.

He never responded to the letter and he didn't show up at his wedding.

 

...

 

It was Spock's 29th birthday when he received another letter.

 

_Dear Spock,_

_I don't know why you never answered the letters I sent you but I couldn't help and write you again to share some news with you. Winona and I are now parents. We named him Samuel George Kirk after my wife's father and – obviously – me._  
_Actually, I wanted to name him after you but Winona was against it. You would have thought it illogical and unnecessary anyway, right?_  
_I still hold you in high regards and I wish I could talk to you to know what it was that made you break off any contact with me._

_Whatever I did, let me make it up to you._

_I miss you, my friend._

_Live long and prosper,_

_George_  
_P.S.: Happy birthday. I know it is not logical to congratulate you on your birth. But still._

 

Attached to the letter was a photography of an Human infant. It's skin was still pinkish and it's eyes were closed. It was too young to make out any facial features. Spock was illogically grateful for that.

 

...

 

Another five years past by and Spock found himself serving at the Starfleet Academy as a professor in both linguistics and xenobiology while George Kirk was still at the U.S.S. Kelvin, a new baby on the way as another letter had indicated. Another unanswered letter that is. He would never know why George insisted on sending him letters he probably already knew would never be answered.

Humans were just illogical like that.

The pain he had felt over his unrequited love for George had been about to vanish. Actually, Spock had finally felt a little at ease with himself and was patiently waiting for his first Pon Farr to ignite, though, it was unsure when it would hit him since he was a half-Vulcan, half-Human hybrid. Being now just 23 years of age in Vulcan Standard and 34 in Human Standard left him approximately 4 to 16 other Vulcan years – 7 to 28 Human years.  
There was plenty of time to forget about George Kirk and his blue eyes entirely until he was going to be forced to bond with T'Pring, his fiancée on Vulcan, to share his Pon Farr with her.

That is until the 22th of March 2233.

“George Kirk was Captain of the U.S.S. Kelvin for 12 minutes before dying while saving 800 lives.”

It was illogical to be emotionally affected by the death of a man he hadn't talked to nor seen for 9.82 years. He still found himself locked in his quarters for a month.

 

...

 

The son Winona had given birth to, the moment her husband had died, was named James Tiberius Kirk. He had caught a glimpse of him at the funeral, tiny and too skinny for a Human infant to be.  
Winona had stared at Spock with a hatred he hadn't understood until she had opened her mouth: “Why did you never answer his letters, Commander? He died, not knowing what it was that tore you two apart! You were important to him!”

Everyone in the room stared at them as she raised her voice, tears streaming down her face. The infant in her arms began to cry and Spock found himself unable to cope with the situation.

 

He left.


	2. Part II: James

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock finally meets James.

“I found George's son,” Pike told him 21 years later with a gentle and somewhat guilty expression on his aging face. Spock felt numb all over. “He was rotting in Iowa and I convinced him to join Starfleet.” There was a slight pause. “He has George's eyes.”

 

 ...

 

“Hey, watch out!” a voice yelled after a man bumped into his shoulder as Spock was distracted by his beeping communicator. Lifting his head he had to force himself to not back away in complete shock as a familiar pair of blue eyes connected with his own.

There was a moment of silence as they studied each others faces before Spock finally tilted his head curiously. “Since I was currently distracted and there were approximately 4.152 meters place left on either side of me, it should have been you to “watch out” and not bump into my persona.”  
  
A snort escaped the man – James Tiberius Kirk without any doubt – and he rolled his eyes in a manner that was as familiar to Spock as everything else on the young man standing before him. There were only a few almost insignificant diversions on him that probably were his mothers but otherwise it was George Kirk in all his faded beauty. Though Spock had to admit that the little influence Winona had on the way James turned out to look, completed Georges features perfectly, making him even more striking than his father had been.

 

“You could have at least walked closer to the wall instead of putting yourself in the middle as if you owned this place,” James pointed out with obvious annoyance ruining the beauty of his exterior. “Besides, isn't it unusual for a Vulcan to be 'distracted'?”  
Spock straightened his back even more, his face as collected and rigid as it could get. It was then that he noticed the undeniable and rather overwhelming difference between George and James T. Kirk: The cold.

 

George always had had an air of nonchalance about himself, warm and inviting. He had been as bright and joyous as a sun on a clear blue sky.

 

James T. Kirk was like a beautiful but lonely block of gold. Pretty on the outside but cold to the touch, unfulfilling to the soul, incapable of inflicting happiness for a longer period of time.

 

“I am well aware of the fact that this 'place' is nowhere near my property as it belongs to the founders of Starfleet. 'Besides',” he echoed and James furrowed his brows a tiny bit. “It is impossible for any kind of Humanoid species to be fully alerted at all times,” he explained, clasping his hands behind his back and lifting an eyebrow. “Especially since ones attention highly depends on whether ones current activity is of physical or mental nature.”

 

James stared at him for a long moment, mimicking his own lifted eyebrow and nodding as if he had declared his opponent for mentally insane.

“Right,” he said, drawing his eyebrows together and letting his impossibly cold eyes roam over Spock's physique. “I gotta go.”  


As Spock watched his retreating figure disappear behind a corner, he decided that it was best to avoid James T. Kirk altogether.

 

 ...

 

Avoiding him wasn't exactly easy as he watched him biting far too smugly into his apple, turning towards his tutors after 'miraculously' beating the Kobayashimaru.

 

“How did that kid beat your test?”

 

A rather unpleasant feeling settled into his stomach as he stared at an honorable man's son, arrogant and pleased with himself in a way he had never seen George to be. There was anger in him. Anger that this brat was cheating, ignoring regulations to 'boost his ego' when his father had honorably and humbly died to save his crew.

 

“I do not know.”

 

 ...

 

“ _You of all people should know, Cadet Kirk. A captain can't cheat death_.”

 

The cold in James's eyes vanished for a tiny second, replaced by shock and a hurt so deep that Spock had to bite the inside of his cheek to not apologize immediately, to not take the words back. A blink of an eye later, though, the cold was back in an even more chilling, more frightening manner. No aesthetically pleasing features could ever outweigh the ugly expression in those eyes, the horrific feeling burning Spock's skin as James looked at him like that before averting his gaze as if he noticed the vileness that he was letting slip through.

 

“I of all people?” he asked, feigning innocence rather badly and staring venomously at the podium before him.

Spock should stop. He knew it, he knew that this wasn't fair, that this was _cruel_. Vulcans weren't cruel. However Spock was also Human.

“Your father, Lieutenant George Kirk, assumed command of his vessel before being killed in action – In order to save 800 lives. Including yours.”

The last two words sounded accusing.

 

If the guilt and hurt on James T. Kirk's face were any indication at all, he had noticed.

 

 ...

 

“What is it like no to feel anger?” Devastatingly ugly eyes were staring into his own as James stepped closer, too close, right into his personal space. Spock's hands trembled as waves of heated blood flooded into his head and his arms, challenging the control he had over his body. “Or heartbreak?”

There was a flash of a familiar face, of warm blue eyes and a dimple on the corner of a smiling mouth. Spock remembered beauty and sorrow. He did know heartbreak for he had felt nothing else for the last 35 torturous years ever since he had left George Kirk behind in order to join the Enterprise.

 

“Or the need to avenge the death of the women who gave _birth_ to you?”

 _His mothers face before falling, his hand reaching out, the empty place where she should have been standing, save and sound right by his side - She was_ gone _, like George she was_ gone _, the only Human left on the entire universe that he had_ loved.

 

“Back away from m-”  
  
“You feel NOTHING!” James interrupted him, his voice as ugly and booming as his eyes, _George's eyes_ , leaning closer to Spock, close enough to let him feel his breath against his lips. “It must not even compute for you – YOU NEVER LOVED HER!”

 

After that Spock's usually eidetic memory became blurry and scattered as he lunged out, fully intending to _kill_. There was no logic left in him anymore, just the boil of his blood, the fury and the _hurt_. He wanted to see him dead, to destroy the last reminder of George, of _happiness_ and _life._ James, who was the embodiment of the path his father had chosen over Spock.

 _Rejection_ turned to flesh.

He, this cruel and cold man, did not deserve the eyes which he had been gifted with. The eyes of the man who had been his sun as his mother had been the ground beneath his feet and now that he lost both of them, there was nothing left in him that could even remotely resemble warmth or care.

 

Kill. He wanted to kill. Throwing this weak Human body against a console, he didn't hesitate for even a fracture of a second to close his hand around his neck and to _squeeze_. Spock could have easily crushed him if he wanted to, he would have died of a vertebral fracture right on his nape, cutting out the connection between the brain and the body. However Spock didn't want that. Instead he wanted to watch him slowly suffocate beneath his grip, pretty face red and bloated as those pink lips unsuccessfully tried to suck in air.

 

James looked ugly like that, just like his eyes, just like the sudden presence of dirty gold flooding his mind. There was a horrific burn in his head as Kirk's mind intruded his own through Spock's touch-telepathy, sending him waves of pain and _I'm going to die, fuck, he's killing me, he's fucking killing me...!_

Spock had touched George Kirk's skin only on three quick occasions, sucking in the color and brightness of his mind. It had been the most beautiful and warm shade of yellow, reminding him of sunflowers and sweet corn. However this... this _gold_ – It was cold and it was disgusting, repulsing to Spock's senses. There was strength in it, hardness and dusted over brilliance.

 

Still, he could feel his own mind reaching out for it, his own dark blue ink craving to touch the golden being that was James, to suck it in and melt with it, to make it _his_ , to-

 

“Spock!”  
  
- _wanted_ it, he _**wanted**_ it, he wanted to take him then and there, wanted to consume the ugliness of his mind, the cold and the pain. Never had he burned so much for the feeling of a taunt and warm body beneath his as he stared at the open and inviting lips of his opponent. The primal part of him that was dominating his entire thoughts at this very moment wanted to rip those black clothes off of James and take him, mark him and consume him in front of everyone, in front of...  
  
It was only then that he remembered the whole crew that was surrounding them, his own father piercing him with his gaze from behind.

 

Slowly, he let go of the Humans neck, watching the read hue leaving the relieved face as the assaulted man coughed and heavily breathed, eyelids fluttering. James' beauty returned immediately and with such a force that Spock held his breath for a second. Turning around he met his fathers eyes with his own and whatever he found there, he _hated_ it. Full of shame, he averted his gaze.

 

“Doctor, I am... no longer fit for duty. I here relinquish my command based on the fact that I have been... emotionally compromised. Please note the time and date on the ships log.”  
  
As he left, he could feel the piercing gaze of cold eyes following him.

 

 ...

 

Spock felt his father approaching before he heard him.

 

“I was right,” he whispered, staring at where his mother should have been standing if he hadn't failed. “You did outlive mother in the end.”

 

“I did.”

 

He had already expected his father to confirm his statement, emotionless and collected, like the perfect Vulcan he was. Still, it made his blood boil all over again and he could feel his hands tremble as he tried to keep himself from clenching them to fists.

George Kirk's death had rendered him to a sobbing, screaming mess. His mother's death had almost turned him into a murderer. And yet, here he was, his father, seemingly unaffected and distanced as if his wife, _his bondmate_ , hadn't just died less then two hours ago.

 

“Yet,” his father said, quieter than usual. “I feel dead.”

  
Oh.

 

Spock's anger, his sorrow and his pain deflated, until he was left an empty shell; fingers relaxing, shoulders slouched and gaze directed at nowhere at all.

Quietly, Sarek approached him, steps echoing in the empty room. He came to a halt right next to his son, not touching but close. It was strange how Spock felt like a child all over again, suppressing the urge to just lean in, looking for comfort in his father' arms.

 

“Back then, you came to me with the intention in mind to bond with a Human male.” Spock barely managed to nod. “George Kirk.” Another nod. “The man you almost killed earlier -”  
  
Spock interrupted him with a hiss: “James Tiberius Kirk. His _son_.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his father looking at him, studying him; his face and his posture. Feeling ashamed at how his emotions have taken over him, he tried to regain control. Straightening his back, Spock's face returned to it's distanced mask before facing his father. His father, who in turn looked at him out of grieving eyes. _Grieving_. _**Feeling**_.

 

“It is not him you hate.” Spock closed his eyes, head bowed. “But yourself.”

 

It was true.

 

 ...

 

“It'll work.”  
  
The confidence in James T. Kirk's voice almost convinced him as did the stern and determined expression in those bright blue eyes that he loved and hated all at once. However, Spock could not ignore the odds against them, feeling his heart clench in his chest as he tried to come to terms with the fact, that he was very likely about to die.

 

“In the event that I do not return, I wanted you to know that-”

 

“Spock,” James interrupted him, firm but not cold, not hissing or glaring. “It'll work.”

 

- _it wasn't your fault that your father died. Him not loving me wasn't either._

 

He wanted to tell him and he knew that he needed to, that he could never rest in peace if he didn't tell him in order to make things right.

 

Still, he just nodded and watched him go.

 

Spock wondered whether George had felt the same horrible feeling of being incomplete before he went off to die. Of never having apologized to Spock as he had indicted that he had wished to do in every letter he had sent him. Of not even knowing what it was that made Spock 'hate' him.

George would never know that Spock had been and always would be incapable of hating him.

 

Just as he was incapable of hating the man walking out of the shuttle, golden hair glowing in the artificial light.

 

James T. Kirk.

 

 ...

 

“Father,” he called out to the Vulcan walking a few meters in front of him. Upon hearing his voice the mans steps came to a halt and he turned around revealing an extremely familiar face though it was definitely not his fathers. There was a glint of mischief and amusement in those old eyes, the shadow of a grin on his wrinkled lips. Just as he realized why that face seemed so familiar the Vulcan corrected him: “I am not _our_ father.”

 

Slowly they approached each other, two identical pairs of eyes locking gazes though one was old while the other was still young. “There are so few Vulcans left, we cannot afford to ignore each other.”

There was confusion and dread building up in Spock's interior as he carefully took in his counterparts expression. So very emotional. So very Human.

“Then why did you send Kirk aboard when you alone could have explained the truth?”

 

“Because you needed each other.”

 

Again, there was a strange glint of mischief in those eyes, the tug of a smile on the corner of his mouth that Spock himself always struggled to suppress. His counterpart did not seem to trouble himself with that.  
“I could not deprive you of the revelation of all that you can accomplish together,” he explained, a warm expression on his face, almost soft, almost _fond_. “Of a friendship that will define you both. In ways you can yet not realize.”

 

A _friendship_.

 

Spock was done being friends with _any_ Kirk.

 

“I am afraid that this is something out of my possibilities,” he admitted. His counterpart frowned a little. “I do not feel hate towards Cadet...” He paused to correct himself. “... _Commander_ Kirk. However, he reminds me of a part of my past I am not willing to let compromise me any longer.”  
  
Suddenly, there was understanding in those eyes.

 

This is when Spock remembered that this alternative timeline had started with George Kirk's death. Which means that his counterpart had lived through the same heartbreak as he had, that he had held the same affection for the same man.

“George,” the older Vulcan suddenly said, his voice fond and somewhat sympathetic. “I must admit that I had felt romantic feelings towards him for many years. However the heartbreak vanished the moment I met Jim.”  
  
Now Spock was at a loss of words. His counterpart seemed to notice that, a slight smile on his face. “You see, my infatuation with George was due to a great compatibility of our minds that you and I are both naturally able to feel. As we both know, George chose another path than the one we would have wished him to. However, Jim... Jim is the one with which we are complete. Jim is T'hy'la, the other side of our very same coin, as he had been fond of saying.”

 

Immediately, he remembered the sudden and shocking urge to claim James that he had felt while chocking him. Yet, he also remembered the repulsion he had experienced at the same time. His counterpart seemed to analyze his expression, drawing the right conclusion frighteningly easy. “I touched your Jim's mind on Delta Vega,” he confessed, tilting his head a little. “He is different from the Jim I came to know in my timeline. There is something dark and... unwelcoming about him.”

 

Now Spock was entirely confused and he dared to ask: “Even though they are the same person?”

  
“My Jim grew up with his father. George Kirk was a bright and shining being. I do not doubt that he was the reason as to why my Jim grew up to be a even more astounding and stunning persona. He out shined George by miles. The gold of his mind was pure and fluid, like an ocean,” he said with a slight frown. Spock tried to picture a James T. Kirk fitting to that description. He failed. “However, the Jim of this timeline lacks this. There is a shadow surrounding him that surprised me a lot. His mind is not fluid but hardened and his gold is darker and deeper. Whatever influence George Kirk's absence would had on his life, it changed a vital part of him. Considering that you also experienced something horrific and life changing just recently – the loss of both our mother and our planet – I still do not doubt that it is you and Jim who belong together. As I did belong to mine.”

 

_Together._

 

“Didn't you say that the connection between me and... 'Jim',” It felt weird to not regard to him as the more formal, more distanced 'James'. “Was friendship?” He hesitated. “As your words implicate a relationship of a far more intimate nature.”

  
His counterpart outright _laughed_.

 

“You have no idea what _T'hy'la_ means, do you?” The silence spoke for itself. “I learned that term after taking Jim to Vulcan for the first time. T'Pau declared us T'hy'la. It is an ancient warrior bond between something a Human would call 'soulmates'. It means _friend, brother, lover_.”

 

 _T'hy'la_.

 

 ...

 

Spock had never before felt like invading someones privacy by only looking at said persons record until this very day. Looking up James T. Kirk's profile, though, left him with the feeling that he shouldn't have done it without at least asking for permission beforehand.

 

There were many reasons that justified his unease.

 

It had started with James being born a month earlier than he should have, probably due to the stress his mother had endured during the attack of the U.S.S. Kelvin back then. What made it even worse was the fact that he had been given birth to in space, surrounded by space radiations which turned out to have affected the child’s genes.

 

George Kirk had been smart and according to his counterpart the alternate universe's 'Jim' had been a highly intellectual being also.

However, due to the radiation _his_ James had been exposed to, his brain capacity had increased dramatically in the sensitive state of being just an infant. His Intelligent Quotient surpassed the Humans standard by far which made him nearly as mentally advanced as a _Vulcan_ for his cerebral activity was abnormally high for a Human being.

It made sense. He had already noticed the unusual velocity in which his mind seemed to work, adapting new languages quickly, as being able to understand both matters regarding technology and physics easily.

 

Then came the part which led to Spock outright feeling like an intruder.

 

As it seems James T. Kirk had had more hospitalizations than the entire crew of the Enterprise combined. He had exactly 179 _known_ allergies which lead to an extremely bland diet combined with countless nutrition supplements to provide him with all essential vitamins and minerals he was unable to get from food because almost every kind of subsistence would have him dying some way or another.

 

69 of 103 hospitalizations were due to an allergic reaction of some kind, 18 were due to illnesses which he seemed an easy target of because of his underdeveloped immune system and the other 16 were caused by physical injuries. The latter had started when he was five years old and with little effort Spock found out that his stepfather had been arrested several times for inflicting grievous bodily harm to several people throughout his whole life. It was logical to assume that James had been a victim of domestic abuse. Yet some of his stays in the hospital had occurred on his adult years. Those incidents were linked to criminal reports such as bar fights and even a sexual assault of which James was said to be the victim of.

 

To top this horrific information James T. Kirk had participated in an exchange project on Tarsus IV in 2246 of all times. He had been only 13 years old when a mildew had destroyed the majority of food in the colony, forcing Governor Kodos to execute 4000 colonists in order to save the other 4000 of starvation. James T. Kirk was one of those who were chosen to live, witnessing one of the cruelest systematic massacres of the century.

 

As Spock turned off his PADD he couldn't help but feel guilty for treating him as badly as he did without knowing _anything_ about him.

 

Now he understood the darkness surrounding the man that was supposed to be his 'soulmate'.

Even more guilt washed over him as he wished it had been George Kirk instead.

 

Things would have been so much easier.

 

 ...

 

“Permission to come aboard, Captain.”  
  
James smiled at him with a hint of smugness behind it as if he had expected Spock to enter the bridge at this exact moment. He probably had. He was just perceiving like that.

 

“Permission granted,” he said, waiting for Spock to nod and approach him, face blank as ever.

 

“As you have yet to select a first officer,” he started as James rose from his Captain's chair with an expression so _pleased,_ almost _excited_. “Respectfully, I would like to submit my candidacy.”

 

They came to halt in front of each other, locking eyes in a manner he had never done with George Kirk. It didn't felt like easy camaraderie, it felt like a _challenge_.

 

“To your desire I can provide character references.” _It would only be fair since I violated your privacy by looking up yours._

 

James - No, _Jim_ \- only smiled even brighter.

 

“I would be honored, Commander.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write a third part to this but it's been a year and a half and I don't know if I'll find the inspiration for it...
> 
> I still wanted to clear out that Spock doesn't see James as a replacement for George. He saw him as a painful reminder that George didn't choose him back then. He does realize, even in this chapter, that James is more than that - A person to start with. An individual even. And in the third Part, which was supposed to be called "Part III: Jim", their (genuine) relationship would have started.


End file.
